


My Noctis

by the_Runaway075 (orphan_account)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Language, Other, Tragic Romance, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 03:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17337479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/the_Runaway075
Summary: If there was one thing Gladiolus Amicitia was absolutely certain of...(A requiemed glimpse into the life of Gladio as Noctis's Shield, best friend, and lover.)





	My Noctis

If there was one thing Gladiolus Amicitia was absolutely certain of, it was that he would be in service to the Crown for the rest of his life. Whether as a simple guard, captain, or right hand man of the King himself, he’d be donning that finely tailored black and gold lined suit for every ceremony, for the dead and the living. Whatever duty he was instructed to do, he’d perform it to the best of his abilities and with the gauge of the fire burning in his loyal heart.

 

  As his father before him, nothing made more sense nor felt as humbling as being born to serve under absolute authority and power. In Gladio’s mind, even as a boy, the world of kings fascinated him, kept him mindful of himself before he was taught to act in reverence. The early days and late nights when he’d sneak into the Citadel’s library to explore and discover the history of Lucis, he’d find stories and tales much too great to be kept hidden under the cover of a book.

 

  Magnificent kings, with their heads held high and their swords held higher, perched upon the haunches of an armored steed readied themselves for a battle. A battle not just in honor of their home and countrymen, but a war within themselves. Triumph, glory, praise… Those seeking and lusting for a name marked in the blood of their enemies, others simply desiring to pave a path to peace… It was all there, in the hands of a three-year-old boy not quite old enough to wear his country’s emblem proudly.

 

  Having memorized such glorious exploits, Gladiolus doubted he’d ever bear witness to anything more spectacular.

 

  Until that night, on August 30th, when the boy was woken from a deep slumber by the hand of his father on his back. Eyes weary and pregnant with sleep, Gladiolus trudges beside his father’s bigger, more confident steps up to the king’s bed chambers. All he wants is to go back to bed.

 

  But fate had a plan in store for the eldest son of the Amicitia house. A plan that was governed long ago, long before he burst into existence within his mother’s womb.

 

  A firm yet careful knock on the king’s door. His father’s way of saying, ‘Here am I, Your Majesty.’

 

  “Clarus, come in,” comes the king’s reply, sending shivers down young Gladiolus’s spine. He has indeed heard the monarch of his kingdom speak before, but never in such a soft tone, one that most certainly betrays his method of ruling the wayward peoples of Lucis. “Come see my son.”

 

  The King’s Shield allows his son to enter first, to peek through the door into the bedroom where a tender scene unfolds before him.

 

  A woman, graceful yet tired as her dark hair pools round her bare shoulders cradles a small bundle. Her lips form a beautiful smile, one that holds the promises of a bright future as she greets Clarus and his young boy, holding the bundle close but far enough away from her breasts so that Gladiolus can peer over the bedside at what lies within that soft blanket.

 

  Regis regards the young Gladiolus with a guiding of his hand to a better view of the bundle where a puffy, round, little face contorts into a sour pucker. “Clarus, Gladiolus, I’d like you to meet my son, Noctis Lucis Caelum.”

 

  Gladiolus’s eyes shimmer with wonder as he gazes upon this tiny miracle. All the legends and grand feats of kings and lords vanished from his mind, he now smiles at this small, fragile creature, on whose shoulders the weight of the world will one day be bound. A giggle escapes the boy as the tiny babe, much smaller than a normal newborn, squirms and makes whiny sounds at the finger poking at his soft cheek.

 

  Regis chuckles heartily, exchanging a loving glance with his wife, who yawns and begs with the deep blue of her eyes to be granted the release of sleep. The king, a finger to his lips, assures her he needs only a few moments more. He leans close to the two children, soon - he knows in his heart - to become the closest of friends, comrades, brothers. “You shall one day serve as Noctis’s Shield, Gladiolus. You see, he is the prince we have been waiting for. The gift we have been praying for.”

 

  Gladio can tell, even in his innocent and premature mind, that those tears in the king’s eyes are real. He’s seen his father cry before, too, but it’s never been because of him. It’s a little confusing to the boy, but strangely, it’s actually a joyful sight. His father has often told him that tears are not only reserved for sadness, but for the joys of life as well.

 

  He looks to his father. “Papa?” He whispers, pointing at the newborn prince. “Can I… hold it?”

 

  The queen murmurs a small laugh and nods as Regis carefully plucks little Noctis from his mother’s arms. Clarus motions the correct posture for gently cradling a newborn baby and Gladiolus tries his best to imitate as the fragile baby is handed to him.

 

  In this moment, Gladiolus’s attention is all but gifted to the tiny prince. The sweetness in his amber eyes as he regards the baby brings smiles to the boys’ fathers as the queen sleeps. Clarus wants to reach out and hold the prince himself, knowing full well the agony it must have been to worry for the lives of both Noctis and Aulea during the birth.

 

  But Gladio isn't letting the little prince out of his sight or arms any time soon. He’s enraptured by how gently the baby falls asleep in his hold, chubby little fingers resting against the softness of his cheek. He wonders if Noctis feels safe with him, feels he can trust him despite being only a few hours old. Unaware that he’s puffed out his small chest, Gladio swoons with pride as he tucks the baby boy closer, close enough to kiss his forehead.

 

  He doesn’t get to keep Noctis in his arms forever though. Reluctantly, he lets go as the king hands him to one of the nursemaids. Gladio and his father depart the room to leave the new royal family to rest in peaceful sleep. Gladiolus hangs back just before the door is shut, whispering, “Goo’ night, No’tis.”

 

  He was sure, as he shuts his eyes and begins to drift off to the lullaby plush behemoth he cuddles in bed, Noctis was the most precious thing he’s ever seen in his young life. Even more amazing than the yore concerning kings and their triumphs.

 

  Funny how the image of that baby never leaves the three-year-old’s mind, even in his dreams. He knows Noctis is special; he could feel it when he touched the baby’s sweet, soft face.

 

  _______________________________________

 

  Gladio knocks on the prince’s door quietly, hoping not to startle the younger boy. Immediately after he heard that the Crystal had chosen Noctis as its Champion to bring an end to the starscourge and save the planet, he couldn’t help feeling saddened. He didn’t know exactly what that meant for the prince, but he knew enough from watching how steadily King Regis had taken poorly due to its overwhelming power that something similar would one day befall Noctis.

 

  His prince. His king, that when the time came, would depend on he just as King Regis depends on his father. A special kind of strength the Shield of the King grants upon his liege, reserved to be a faith for him when he can’t stand on his own anymore.

 

  Sniffles echo through the prince’s bedroom. Gladiolus feels responsible for not being there for him. “Your Highness? Are you okay?” When there’s no answer, he knocks again and presses his ear to the door. “Noctis? Can I come in? It’s Gladio.”

 

  Miniature footsteps approach the door and open it slowly, revealing only half the tear-stained face of the five-year-old heir to the throne. “G-Gladio…?”

 

  Gladiolus waves and puts on a weak smile. “Hi. Wanna let me in?”

 

  Noctis’s face is blank for a moment as he ponders his decision, the enormity of his fate obviously still fresh in the forefront of his mind. “Okay.”

 

  He leads the older boy inside, taking his hand and bringing him over to sit on the big carpet that houses his innumerable stuffed animals. A giant, brown bear is what Gladio finds himself sinking into as Noctis plops down on the carpet and grabs his lucky carbuncle plush, holding it close.

 

  Gladiolus does his best to sit as tall and maturely as he can, trying to present himself as the more responsible boy in the room. He wants Noctis to know he can trust him, lean on him if he wishes.

 

  Noctis catches on to the older boy’s silliness and contorts his face. “What’re you doin’?”

 

  “Tryin’a... sit up,” Gladiolus responds, only sinking back into the bear like it’s attempting to swallow him whole in its plush softness. “S’not working.”

 

  Noctis lets out a little giggle, then his face grows sad again. “How come you wanted to come into my room?”

 

  “I heard you were really sad,” Gladio says. “And I wanted to see you.”

 

  Noctis hugs his knees. “I'm okay, really. That’s what Dad said. But…” He wipes his eyes on his jacket sleeve, stiffening up as the urge to cry wells up again. “He was crying.”

 

  Gladio listens quietly, watching the tentative emotions pass by on his prince’s face, expecting him to start bawling at any minute. He flinches back in surprise when Noctis lifts his head and looks straight at him, those innocent blue eyes of his mother looking like they could hold the entire ocean in them.

 

  “Doesn’t that mean he’s sad?”

 

  Gladio bites his bottom lip, gathering on what he knows to give a good answer. “Not always.” His reply has Noctis perked up for what comes next. “My dad used to tell me that… crying isn’t always about sad things. It’s just… well, it’s crying.”

 

  Noctis furrows his brows, holding his carbuncle closer for further comfort in the unknown of this conversation. “But, if crying is for good things, too, then what kinds of good things can I cry for?”

 

  Gladio shrugs his shoulders and hums the same sentiment.

 

  Noctis crawls over to Gladio, peering up at him with those sweet, pleading blue eyes. “Is it okay if…” He starts sniffling, tears filling his eyes. “...if I cry now?”

 

  Gladio extends his arms out and welcomes the younger boy. Noctis quickly settles into his lap and snuggles against his warmth, wetting his shirt with his tears. “Sure, Noctis. Are you crying because you're sad?”

 

  Noctis nuzzles the older boy, whimpering as he clutches onto him like he’s the only person in this world who makes sense, who understands him perfectly. “N-no… I'm crying cuz… cuz I love my dad.”

 

  Gladio says nothing, just holds him for hours until his crying slows and finally stops. He hears a soft snore and realizes that Noctis has fallen asleep in his lap. Stroking his soft hair, Gladio lays his head upon Noctis’s and closes his eyes. The peace that he feels while it's just the two of them here makes him not want to leave.

 

  Secretly, he prays no one comes looking for them. They’ll take Noctis away from him again, he knows, against his wishes. He just wants to hold Noctis till Noctis himself asks to be left alone. A tear leaves Gladio’s weary eyes and he’s very suddenly overcome with grief for his little friend, his prince he shall soon swear fealty to for the rest of his life.

 

  He tells himself to stop crying, to keep Noctis close and safe in his arms until he wakes up and trods off to bed. Noctis needs Gladio’s strength right now, and Gladio is more than happy to oblige.

 

  Halfway through his nap, Noctis whines and burrows his head further into Gladio’s chest, relishing in the warmth his friend provides him, the safety and comfort his presence offers.

 

  If there was one thing young Gladiolus Amicitia was absolutely certain of, it was that Noctis needed him.

 

  ____________________________________

 

  Actually, he has come to enjoy this time of day in their rigorous schedule. The time of day when evening rolls around and the sun begins its descent beneath the horizon, bathing the land in a brilliant golden orange. He’s always appreciated the beauty of twilight. But it’s also one of the busiest times around camp.

 

  Ignis usually cleans up the camp stove and the dishes, storing leftovers away for another supper in a couple days down the road. Most nights, he doesn’t ask for assistance, but this time it’s Gladio’s pair of hands he’s got drying the dishes. Prompto’s off unfolding the four camp chairs and setting up the firewood for their nightly coffee and hot chocolate mood around the campfire, gleefully pulling out his camera when an opportunity in the shape of an anak herd confronts his view in the wide open plains of the Leiden countryside.

 

  A cool breeze sweeps the dusty landscape, blowing west. The shield breathes it in, grateful for the relief from the heat of the day they just had. He’s almost dried the last dish as Ignis walks around the haven, glassed eyes peeled for whereabouts of the prince. No one has seen him since the mid-meal.

 

  “Gladio.”

 

  Gladio answers over his shoulder without looking. “Yo.”

 

  “Have you seen Noct? He disappeared during dinner and I haven’t seen him since.”

 

  Gladio pauses and sets the dish down, repeating Ignis’s words in his head, trying to grasp some hidden clue from between them. “Yeah, I know.” It’s almost dark out - the night is full of daemons, and much too dangerous for anyone to be out alone. “No, I, uh… Haven’t seen ‘im. Want me to search?”

 

  Hands on his hips, Ignis stands to make an issue of that question. “As if I’d request any different, thank you.”

 

  “Sure,” Gladio replies simply, begrudgingly. He’s always the one that has to go searching for Noctis when he wanders off. It’s not as if he hates doing it, but the annoyance is there when Noctis leaves without a word to anyone about where he’s going. And he’s supposed to be the responsible prince-cum-king? Gladio sometimes scoffs at that notion.

 

  After all, Noctis is only a boy. He’s got a long way to go before he’s ready to be crowned king.

 

  Generously built for physical challenges, Gladio clambers over boulders in search of Noctis, muscles thick and contracting with heat and sweat, combined to help make him even stronger. He’s grateful for the stamina he’s trained into himself since his younger days.

 

  He climbs to the top of the largest boulder and cups his mouth. “Noctis!” He shouts, glancing around the hazy horizon. Hearing a lazy muffled reply from below, he spots Noctis lounging against one of the boulders, full view of the glorious sunset before him. He clambers down and stands beside him, leaning against the same boulder. “We thought you’d disappeared on us.”

 

  Noctis scoffs. “Why would I do that?”

 

  “Cuz you’re annoyed by what we found out today,” he says, getting another grunt out of the prince. “You’re pouting - and you won’t let anyone know how you’re feeling inside because you just don’t think it’s worth the effort.”

 

  Noctis chucks a pebble at the rusty remains of a war weapon half buried in the ground. “I don’t wanna bother you guys with my own personal burdens.”

 

  “You do anyway,” Gladio snorts half-heartedly, scuffing some dirt with his boot. He knows he’s got Noctis pinned under his own self-loathing, countering the guilt he’s trodden on since they left the first of many royal tombs.

 

  “Well, I'm sorry, okay?”

 

  Gladio sinks down beside him, resting an arm across his knee as he stretches out his legs. “I’ll tell ya right now - I ain’t dealin’ with the pouting, Your Moodiness. Now, you wanna talk?”

 

  Noctis groans loudly and slams his back against the boulder a couple times to relieve some of the built up frustration on his mind. “Fine, but I’m not gonna be nice about it.”

 

  Gladio shrugs with a careless huff, folding his hands behind his head. “Whatever.”

 

  For several moments, the only sound that passes between them is the song of the crickets, setting the mood quite nicely as the world grows darker around them. Having never felt bold enough to ask Gladio for help, Noctis often keeps quiet about problems he’s facing. But after today, he could use a little unusual coddling from his Shield.

 

  “I’m not fit to be king, Gladio.”

 

  Gladio opens an eye in moderate surprise. He kind of expected this. “Yeah? Why not?”

 

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know,” Noctis grumbles. He bangs his fist on the ground. “I don’t know anything about being king. I’m far away from home, my dad’s dead, my kingdom taken over… and what do I have? An old, dead guy’s sword in my pocket. How is that supposed to help me? Cor was wrong about me… I don’t have the kind of strength Dad had…”

 

  Gladio sits quietly, waiting for Noctis to say more, but he never does. So, he leans over his knees and glances in the prince’s direction. “Maybe not. But you do have something.”

 

  Noctis’s cobalt gaze is sullen, almost with tears as he looks to Gladio. “Yeah? What?”

 

  “A chance.”

 

  “What?”

 

  Gladio pats him on the back, shaking him as if to convince him of his own resolution. “Noct, you’ve got a chance to change things. To make things right. Yeah, Insomnia’s lost to those imperial bastards, but it’s not gone.”

 

  Noctis’s expression has relaxed, his features grown soft again as he considers Gladio’s words. They're encouraging, if not wholly full of wisdom. “You really think I can do that?”

 

  Gladio nods, taking pity on the frailty and lack of confidence in Noctis’s tone. “I have to believe you can do this,” he says strongly. “You’re the king, Noct, by blood. I’ve watched you grow up, and I know when these things happen, it's so friggin’ easy to just shut down and shut out the world. But you’ve gotten stronger, and you’re gonna keep getting stronger the longer we're out here.”

 

  Noctis’s eyes are aglow with wonder as he listens and takes it all in. In a way, Gladio is praising him, rewarding him for the effort he’s struggled to put forth in these trying times since Insomnia fell. He’s trying, and Gladio knows that’s the best he can do.

 

  After all, Noctis wasn’t the only one who lost something back home. Gladio’s father died protecting his liege, shielding him from the enemies who eventually took his life. Both of their lives. Gladio was an orphan, too. Noctis can hear the hidden hurt in Gladio’s voice when he talks of strength, and he respects it.

 

  “Becoming a man is the hardest thing you’ll ever face in your life, Noct, but I’m gonna be by your side every step of the way to make sure you never forget it.”

 

  And then, Noctis is smiling at him. Gladio holds so much more wisdom than he ever gave him credit for. Being older isn’t the only reason, though; Gladio has seen and been through many hardships up till now. Perhaps Noctis should be paying more attention to the weight his Shield carries as well.

 

  It can’t be easy for him.

 

  They both get up with Gladio leading the way to camp when Noctis runs to catch up to him, walking side by side with his Shield. “Gladio?”

 

  “Hmm?”

 

  “Can we walk back… together? Y’know, so then I can’t forget what being a man is all about?”

 

  Gladio bumps his shoulder and chuckles as Noctis gives an honest smile, a brief glimpse into the mature, regal man he’ll someday become. “Sure. Just know that I’m gonna be pushing your tiny ass pretty damn hard.”

 

  Noctis is grateful. Gladio can tell when they link arms that his grip is one of grounded trust, a subtle shift in their relationship that will carry them a long way. “I’m counting on it.”

 

  ‘Cheeky little brat,’ Gladio laughs to himself. ‘But a kingly one.’

 

  ___________________________________

 

  “Harder!” Noctis yells, leaving himself open to whatever physical punishment Gladio is about to give him next. “Hit me harder!! I deserve it!” He knows Noctis feels the guilt hanging so heavily on him right now, especially after learning of Ignis’s injury. The prince feels responsible for abandoning him and Lunafreya, and now, he yearns to feel the sting of reprimand.

 

  Gladio rubs his fist. It aches from slapping Noctis across his face. “I'm not gonna hit you again.”

 

  “But I need it!” Noctis cries at him, desperately seeking pain. Red flourishes across his cheek. “Make me feel bad, Gladio. Hit me like you can’t stand it either!”

 

  Suddenly, Gladio shoves him up against the wall of the train cabin, covering his mouth with his large palm. “NO! ...No… I won’t hurt you, Noct.” He tries to understand the anger in those luscious blue eyes glaring back at him, the confusion, the pain… But it’s all beyond him. It’s the kind of hurt his father did all he could to hide from him when he was just a boy.

 

  The kind he was afraid Gladio wouldn’t understand. But he does. Godsdammit, he does understand.

 

  The older man takes a deep breath, exhaling through his nostrils, towering over Noctis as he ponders his words carefully. “Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.”

 

  Noctis can’t stand how calm he’s being about this, he can’t take those sweet tones of easy forgiveness and simple understanding. Weak compassion - that's what Noctis regards Gladio’s words as. “Sto’mp it!” His voice is muffled by Gladio’s hand. Gladio pulls his hand away and motions ‘shh’. “Stop it! Get away from me. You just… You don't understand, Gladio! You never will…”

 

  Gladio’s copper gaze flashes a look of anger, sharp and threatening, but unintentional. “Oh yeah? You really think I don’t understand how you’re feeling? Accusing me of having no feelings is worse than insulting me right to my face, Noct. You think you’re the only one suffering right now?”

 

  “Because I am!” Noctis throws it back in his face, tears flooding his eyes. “I just wanna go home! I hate everything!! I just…”

 

  Gladio shakes his head and clucks disapprovingly, earning himself a severely disgruntled glare from the younger man. “Shameful,” he hisses. “If only you could hear how selfish you’re being.”

 

  “Shut up!!”

 

  Noctis then hurls himself at Gladio, beating on him with both fists, hoping he’ll present some kind of threat with the rage that keeps building and building until it spills over and becomes his vice with which to attack Gladio. Gladio’s face is blank, eyes narrowed as he absorbs Noctis’s pathetic jabs to his hardened abs and torso. Like a pillar that refuses to budge before an earthquake, he stands ready, stance firm, unmoved by Noctis’s attacks.

 

  Noctis’s punches may be small, but they’re not painless. Every grunt Gladio breathes out through his nose signals as much. Though he knows it’s just a release of pent-up anger and pain, Gladio can sense, can feel actually, that there’s more to the negative energy in Noctis’s hands when they make contact with his body. It’s like an expectation; a failure on Gladio’s part that Noctis most likely blames him for.

 

  When Noctis begins screaming into his hits, Gladio demands it’s time to stop, catching his wrists and sending his prince to the ground as he lands sprawled on his back. “Noct, enough!!!” But Noctis continues to flail and push against him, face scrunched up with hate he never meant to fling at Gladio.

 

  Noctis relents slightly, trying to kick his legs out, but Gladio’s laying over his knees, keeping them pressed against his stomach. “Gladio, stop! Lemme go! Get off me!!” He’s still crying, salty tears staining his beautiful, flawless face. “I hate this!! I hate everything and everyone!! I… I…”

 

  Gladio leans closer, risking crossing the border between best friends, comrades, brothers… and King and Shield. But for Noctis, he’ll do it, just this once. He knows he needs it, the smaller hands in his bigger ones are shaking. Noctis is shaking. He gazes into those frightened, beautiful eyes and doesn’t look away.

 

  Noctis examines Gladio’s face and stows away all the hate in his heart aimed at everything and anything he can think of. Gladio's thick brows furrow in sadness, his lips pursed in pity, shiny, honeyed eyes - honest as the sunrise - spell out compassion for Noctis’s troubled soul. His chest heaves up and then down again with the words, “I… I love you, Gladio,” whispered along the lump in his throat.

 

  Gladio gathers himself as best he can before he asks, “Are you sure about what you just said to me?” He releases Noctis’s wrists, which are then on either side of his face as Noctis’s thumb smoothes across the taut, scarred flesh trailing down his eye.

 

  “Yes,” Noctis says, swallowing thickly. “I need you, Gladio. I can’t do this without you.”

 

  Gladio turns to kiss the palm of Noctis’s left hand. “I know. I’m sorry I can’t be more, Noct.”

 

  Noctis leans up and hugs his broad shoulders, latching onto him like he’s about to fall. “No, no, no, it’s okay. You’re okay just the way you are, Gladio. I’m… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you when you’ve needed me.”

 

  “It’s my job, Noct,” Gladio says, but it sounds so cold when he brings duty in where love resides. “I’ll always be here for you, to protect you.”

 

  Slowly, Noctis pulls back. “Then I’m not allowed to ask for anything else?”

 

  Gladio puts a hand atop Noctis’s thigh and slides his knees across the floor to get closer. “Careful what you ask for, Highness.” 

 

  Noctis juts out his lower lip and bites on it to suppress more tears, gazing out the window at the clear, blue sky. “Will you let me know?”

 

  “Let you know, what?”

 

  Noctis stares hard at his Shield, studying how close they are in terms of personal space, examining his options in case he wanted to… to… He sneaks under Gladio’s chin and meets his lips, slightly sucking to prompt Gladio into returning the kiss. “Please,” Noctis pleads, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he sits up on his knees. “Please.”

 

  The taste of Noctis is sweet, irresistible on his mouth, the tingle of his breath across his lips tantalisingly delicious. Gladio throws caution out of his mind and returns the gesture, sucking on Noctis’s mouth hard enough that he draws a light moan out of him. He shoves him to the floor, almost knocking the wind out of the prince as he gasps and parts with Gladio’s mouth for a moment before Gladio closes the distance again.

 

  Unable to leave Noctis for any amount of time, Gladio folds his tank top up and over his head, tossing it into the corner. Noctis tries pulling his shirt above his belly at least, but his hands find themselves trapped beneath Gladio’s glorious expanse of muscle as he runs his palms along those firm abs. Gladio groans and kneads Noctis’s soft sides, high, sculpted hips the perfect leverage he needs to haul himself on top of Noctis, pinning him beneath his heavy body.

 

  Noctis lays his head back and leaves Gladio to explore forbidden territory, the flesh of which he knew he’d never be allowed to blemish. Gladio’s hot, sloppy mouth finds the gorgeous curve of Noctis’s neck and nibbles along his throat, growling with desire. Gladio’s soft spikes of dark hair brush across his cheek and tickle him as he reaches up to pet his Shield, tugging on clumps of it as Gladio ruts gently against his lower areas.

 

  “Gladio,” Noctis breathes heavily. “Gladio?” A particularly tender spot that Gladio lavishes on his collarbone makes Noctis mew like a kitten and close his eyes in pleasure. “Gladio~”

 

  Gladio lifts his head a second later, gazing down at his prince, who mere moments ago was ready to claw his Shield’s face off, but now has become pliant and willing, bending under Gladio’s touch. He’s heaving and already sticky with sweat, the passion having been ignited within his heart. “You were saying?”

 

  Noctis huffs a laugh of guilty pleasure, a bit embarrassed by his sudden change in behavior. “When you need me… Tell me when you need me. I wanna be here for you, too, Gladio, you big dumbass.”

 

  “But, Noct-”

 

  Noctis kisses his own finger and presses it to Gladio’s lips, still wet from their mingled saliva. “Don’t talk now,” he orders, taking Gladio’s hand. “You haven’t finished your job yet.”

 

  Gladio raises a brow as a smug smirk casts a shadow upon Noctis’s face. “Wait, you mean…?”

 

  “Yeah, I do,” he replies, sounding a touch unsure. “That is, if you’re okay… with it?”

 

  Gladio smiles warmly, kissing him on the lips again. He eyes him suspiciously. “I am, but it sounds like you’re afraid. Are you?”

 

  Noctis squirms under the pressure of that question. “Uh… a little, I guess. I’m still a… y’know… I’ve never done it before.”

 

  His emphasis on ‘it’ makes Gladio chuckle. “You’re still a virgin, you mean?”

 

  Noctis frowns, a blush reddening his cheeks. “Just because I’m the crown prince doesn’t mean I’m the Casanova of the Citadel like you.”

 

  “Point taken, Princess,” Gladio says softly, gently guiding the prince’s trousers off his hips, cupping the tender flesh there. “But I do know a thing or two about it, if you’re okay with me being your first time?”

 

  Noctis’s grin is cute, his blue eyes shining like sunlight on water. “I’d really like it if you were.”

 

  Other hand caressing Noctis’s shoulder and slipping up around his neck, Gladio nods with a thick swallow of nervousness. “Alright, if you’re sure you want me.”

 

  “I do,” Noctis affirms sweetly, holding Gladio’s hand in the middle of his chest. “No one will ever know, I swear it.”

 

  Gladio needs no more assurance than that from Noctis’s own lips. His eyes tell of the desire he has for his Shield - it’s undeniable. As he summons a condom from the Armiger, Noctis lays back and spreads his legs, letting Gladio do all the work. It’s not a big deal, seeing as how Noctis is new to this experience. Gladio is glad to make him happy, to make him feel good.

 

  Soon, they’re both naked as the day they were born, clothes strewn about beneath them as Gladio lubes himself up and prepares Noctis more carefully than he ever did himself. Noctis shudders and tenses up at the sensation of Gladio’s hands reaching into sensitive places they’ve never been before. He guides him into calmness with a warm palm in the middle of his belly, and a hug around his neck.

 

  Noctis whimpers, holding tight to Gladio’s embrace. “I don’t know if I wanna do this after all…”

 

  Gladio kisses the side of his face, carding tenderly through his soft hair. “It’s alright, Noct, I’m here. Not gonna lie to ya: there’s gonna be a little pain, but after that, it’s nothing but smooth sailing.”

 

  “Promise?”

 

  Gladio nods, smile firmly etched as reassurance. “Promise. I got you, baby,” he winks, twinkles in his eyes. “Trust me on this. I’ll never lead you astray.”

 

  He’s right, Noctis has never doubted that. He sighs and allows Gladio to continue, tapping his arm as he works. “I love you-!” He gasps and arches as Gladio slips a finger inside of him.

 

  Lips pressing against his ear, he kisses him and whispers, “Wanna know a secret?”

 

  Noctis pushes a little off the floor as another finger slides into him. He winces, holding his breath. “Y-yeah…”

 

  Gladio shushes him first and tells him to breathe, guiding him gently as he takes hold of his hand and lets him squeeze to help alleviate the pressure. Noctis breathes out another, ‘I love you,’ when Gladio rests his head in the crook of Noctis’s neck, mumbling, “I’ve wanted you forever, Noct.”

 

  If there was one other thing Gladiolus Amicitia was absolutely certain of, it was that he knew Noctis, inside and out, body and soul.

 

  ____________________________________

 

  Gods, it’s been forever since he’s had Noctis this close to him, ten years to be exact, but he’s not counting all the lonely hours he spent consumed in his own sorrow. He’d rather count how many breaths Noctis takes per minute as he sleeps laid out on his chest, nakedly pressed up against his own body. He pulls the covers up over them both  ever so gently so as not to wake his lover.

 

  Noctis stirs, waking, but not unnecessarily. “Mm… You’re so warm, Gladio.” He cuddles closer, tightening the arm laid across Gladio’s abs. “Not sleeping?”

 

  Gladio has to sniff Noctis’s hair just to become familiar with his presence again. He always smells so nice after intercourse, somewhere along the lines of sweet musk and clean cotton sheets. “No, but I’m not tired. You need the sleep more than I do.”

 

  “No kidding,” Noctis mumbles into Gladio’s side. “You weren’t exactly gentle with me this time.”

 

  “Sorry,” he sighs, keenly aware that Noctis spoke the truth. He couldn’t help himself though. When two lovers part for a long time, the reunion is that much sweeter, leading Gladio to want to both ravish him and cherish him unto the beginnings of pain.

 

  “No, but, really,” Noctis urges him, sitting up on his elbow. “You seem lost in thought. You okay?”

 

  “Yeah,” Gladio says, hand leaving loving strokes along Noctis’s smooth back. “I was just thinking back to the very first time I held you.”

 

  “Oh yeah?”

 

  Gladio smiles. “Yeah. You were just a tiny thing, only a few hours old.” Noctis sits up higher on Gladio’s chest, listening intently. “I barely remember anything about that night cuz I was half asleep, but I remember you - can’t forget. Don’t think I ever will either.”

 

  Noctis hums contently, but there’s something bothering him, burning in the back of his mind. “What else do you remember?”

 

  “Too much to recount,” Gladio mutters plainly.

 

  “Lemme ask you this-” Noctis begins, grabbing Gladio’s attention indefinitely. “If you could go back in time, where would you go? What’s your favorite memory? Happy or otherwise?”

 

  Gladio scoffs with fondness. “Damn, Noct, you shoved me in a tight corner here… Uh… well, I’d wanna go… wherever you went.”

 

  Noctis is surprised. “Wherever I went? But, that’s not…”

 

  Gladio glances down at him, tilting his head in a way that hints at a fact that Noctis hasn’t considered yet. “Noct, all my memories are of you. I don’t have a happy memory that doesn’t include you. You should know that?”

 

  Noctis sits upright, face flushed. “Can you be more specific?”

 

  Gladio follows suit and makes the bed jump and creak, sitting as close as he can to his king. “Noct, I wouldn’t want to go back in time. I’d wanna move forward if I could take you with me.”

 

  Noctis turns to him. “Gladio, I…” Gladio gathers him in his arms, despite Noctis’s subtle resisting. “You swore you wouldn’t get emotional.”

 

  “Six, Noct, how can I not when I’ve got you here in my arms, alone after so long?” He captures his lips softly, sweetly, chuckling at the rough scrape of their beards rubbing together. He barely remembers the boy Noctis used to be. He’s changed so much. “I’d rather not remember the times we won’t be able to reminisce about together. Let’s make new memories.”

 

  Noctis melts into the kiss, letting himself become prey to Gladio’s mouth and tongue as he’s ravished and loved til they're both lying down again, exploring each other’s bodies beneath the sheets. Noctis moans and pulls Gladio closer, guiding his mouth down to his neck, where Gladio takes control and begins peppering kisses along that beautiful curve of flesh.

 

  Gladio takes a breather, headbutting and nuzzling Noctis’s crook as he tries to catch his breath. “Oh, baby, you’re so beautiful… I wanna always remember you like this.”

 

  Noctis gives him a sly smirk. “What, naked, sweaty, and sprawled out just for you?” Gladio nods enthusiastically. Noctis laughs, warm affection spreading in Gladio’s belly. “That’s all?”

 

  “Like hell that’s all,” Gladio says, sliding his hands down Noctis’s shoulders and rubbing his arms. “I wanna remember all of you. The way you look, the way you smell, the way you taste, the way you feel under me…” Noctis spreads his legs at that notion, Gladio crowding in close between those gorgeous thighs. “If you want any different, Noct, spit it out.”

 

  Noctis shakes his head slowly, taking Gladio’s hands and placing them on the inside of his thighs instead. “Tonight, I want what you want, Gladio. I’m not going anywhere until you’re finished with me.”

 

  “That’s a long time, baby,” Gladio growls, thrusting his hips into Noctis’s, gaining a drawn out moan. “I’ll never be done with you. Never.”

 

  “Kiss me,” Noctis demands calmly. His tone seems to outlast patience. “Kiss me, please, Gladio.”

 

  Gladio happily rolls on top of Noctis, leaving him with little room to breathe as he captures his mouth and groans into it. Noctis squirms under him, unable to contain his laughter as his lover’s weight settles down onto a vulnerable area beneath his navel that triggers a pain in his lower back. Gladio is careful not to press too hard on it as he knows it’s very painful for Noctis, having suffered that scar from a daemon attack at the tender age of eight.

 

  The Shield doesn’t want anything else in this moment. He’s been longing for this chance for ten grueling years alone, waiting, sometimes doubting whether or not his king would ever return. But now that he’s here, he’s going to give him everything he has to offer. He wants Noctis to know how much he’s missed him, how much he’s longed to touch him, feel him. In return, all he wants is an ‘I love you’ moaned beneath him.

 

  Once again, Gladio is much too rough with him, leaving a myriad of bruises on his hips and thighs, an achiness within that the king will be feeling for a few days at least. But Noctis welcomes the pain, treating it as yet another memory to carry with him once they’re forced to leave this little respite, this little sanctuary they share together.

 

  To make things worse, Gladio has finally fallen asleep, but on top of Noctis, whose body is just wracked with soreness and exhausted from lovemaking. He tries to move, but Gladio’s behemoth weight is keeping Noctis pinned to the center of the mattress. He groans aloud, a sudden pain in his middle gripping him fiercely.

 

  His shout causes Gladio to wake up and stir against Noctis, slurring deeply, “Hm? Noct, what time… is it…”

 

  “Gladio,” Noctis wheezes, pushing on him. “Please, move. You're hurting me.”

 

  Gladio’s eyes shoot open. He rolls off as quickly as he can, kissing all over Noctis’s face as if that would help ease his pain at all. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I was so tired I kinda just…” Noctis cups his cheek, shutting Gladio up instantly with the tender yet very tired sapphire glow in his eyes.

 

  “I know, love, I know.”

 

  Gladio doesn’t dare glance at the clock as Noctis lays his head upon Gladio’s chest and begins to drift off peacefully, the warmth of Noctis’s body steadily declining. It’s a dreadful fact, Gladio knows, that Noctis is fading from this world the longer he lingers. This is as close and as intimate as they’ll be before it all comes crashing down around their ears.

 

  Noctis doesn’t fall asleep quite so easily this time, merely resting himself upon Gladio like a seal on the shoreline. His many wandering thoughts have always gotten the best of him. “I love you…”

 

  Gladio clenches his eyes shut for a moment as Noctis’s words sound like someone ripped them from his throat and dragged them through the mud before they reached the Shield. “Couldn’t have said it better,” Gladio replies dully, heart breaking without any ideal cause. “You know I love you.”

 

  “But I want to hear you say it,” Noctis protests, voice soft and gentle like a dove. It’s not a command; it’s more like a prayer, a desperate reach for what little they truly have. “Your voice has always made me feel… safe. You make me feel warm, Gladio.” He nuzzles Gladio’s chest and holds on tighter. “And I don’t ever want to forget what it means to have loved you in this lifetime.”

 

  It’s such a simple thing. There’s no tears, no bawling, no promises made. It’s just the two of them, two men, two humans in love. And Gladio wouldn’t change that, not for the world.

 

  Gladio’s gaze lingers on Noctis, his king, his lover. That face is one in a billion, those eyes worth more than all the gold and silver treasure buried beneath the sea. Noctis is Noctis, and Gladio considers his life well-lived for having loved him until the end.

 

  “I love you, Noct,” Gladio says, hand shaking as he strokes his scruffy cheek. How he loves to see Noctis smile at him - it takes his breath away. He wipes at his eyes, arm now wet with his own tears. “I love you because there will never be another Noctis on this earth. You are so special, Noct. And I am eternally thankful- no… I can die with the joy in my heart of loving you, for you. You are my Noctis, and I will always, always keep you in my heart.”

 

  Noctis kisses at his Shield’s tears, willing them to leave him some kind of everlasting peace. “And I will always be with you, Gladio.”

 

  Gladio holds Noctis close in one last embrace before they both drift away into forgotten dreams, unspoiled and untouched by the horrors of this world.

 

  Gladiolus Amicitia is absolutely certain of many things, most of which he holds so very close to his heart. But there is one of them that’s different from the others, one that has clung to him for decades since the day that wonderful creature drifted like an angel into his life.  The one he cherishes most, the one he would die for…

 

  Gladiolus Amicitia was absolutely certain, before anything else, that he loved Noctis, till the end of his days.


End file.
